The Tale of Ol' Blue Eyes
by tearsofbreakingglass
Summary: Brian, the state of New Jersey, helps Frank Sinatra skyrocket to fame while grappling with feelings that he and society deem as unnatural


_New Jersey, 1940_

Brian leaned back into an uncomfortable plastic chair. Typically, this wouldn't be his scene. He preferred to be at club where the band played so loud that it was heard from the street. He liked to feel the press of strangers bodies dancing alongside each other and trading off partners without hesitation. The lounge where he found himself tonight, unfortunately, provided neither of those. What it lacked in excitement it made up for with the performance of a young up-and-coming singer with a voice like velvet and eyes like ice.

New Jersey found himself once again captivated with how the singer moved about the stage, how the object of his eye seemed to glide across. His movements seemed almost like a dancer. The other was so graceful and nimble with such luscious lips that Brian couldn't stop himself from wondering what other performative uses they had.

The state of New Jersey silently berated himself for thinking such unnatural things. Again, they had crept in and again he had willingly let them. It was disgusting, it was repulsive, he should be ashamed for this. He continued to reprimand himself as he felt himself rise and applaud the performer with the rest of the audience.

He finally snapped out of his thoughts when he noticed Frank dancing around the obstacle course of chairs and tables to get to his friend. As soon as he got close enough, he embraced Brian - who became completely aware of every part of his body where they had connected.

"Brian, buddy! Did you catch a look at what they did for me outside? My name is in lights, shining brighter than all the stars the sky can offer." He sighed in awe due to the fact that one of his dreams was being realized. "Ain't it something?"

The green eyed man shook his head, smiling. "Always told you it'd happen. Madison Square, Atlantic City, and Carnegie Hall will be headlining you before you know it." He winked. "Might've been a big label guy here too."

This earned him another quick hug and a laugh. "You dog! I thought I said no favors? I said I wanted to do this straight!" Frank held up a hand, preventing the other from stuttering through a weak explanation. "Don't matter now. I just gotta repay you somehow."

Just as Brian was about to imply that all would be repaid by going to dinner with him tonight, a group of girls gathered around the stage caught Frank's eye. "How about, for the time being, I repay you by sending us home with some of those dames there?"

That killed Brian's positive mood immediately. Of course he had plans to be with another harem of beautiful women tonight. That's what Frank Sinatra did, not men. Why even think he had a chance?

"Thanks, but I'm good. Just planned on seeing you tonight and heading back home. Got work real early and-" He trailed off, seeing the others saddened expression. He placed a hand on the shorter man's shoulder. "Drinks at the usual place tomorrow, all on me. How's that?" Frank's demeanor went back to after-performing high again and Brian took that as his yes. All seemed well once more.

 _1947_

Brian couldn't believe how Frank's career had exploded so soon. Just as he predicted, he was headlining shows in all the countries biggest venues and was gearing up for a tour in Europe. While this was all good and well, there was one difference that stung him quite a bit.

Frank had left Hoboken for the Big Apple, causing Brian to see his best friend less and less while his sister saw him more and more. Every major award show, Elizabeth was there draped in designer dresses and acting as the perfect eye-candy. She could be seen, laughing at whatever Frank whispered into her ear, kissing him at just the right moment, doing everything Brian had dreamt about doing himself. It made him sick.

And, despite Frank promising that this was all for business, he couldn't help having plenty of doubts. What man sings a song so obvious about the woman of his affections? Sure, he didn't write _New York, New York,_ but Frank certainly didn't have to cover it and definitely not when he had such an affectionate relationship with the state who it's about.

He couldn't keep away though. So, when Frank came back home to perform, he planned to be there front and center. Adoring him from afar, but still being right there to support him. Just like it was before fame finally reached him.

The performance was great and would've been fantastic if he hadn't been seated besides his sister. Throughout the whole thing, he was forced to tolerate her whispering in his ear about how good Frank looked (as if he didn't have eyes!) and how she thought a suit on him looked better when it was off (oh, could he believe that). New Jersey was half sure that New York was doing this to get him to show his jealousy, but he wasn't about to let himself fall prey to her games.

They hurried backstage as soon as the concert ended and Brian felt sickened by their first display of affection. Frank, once he realized Brian was there, grinned at his old friend and hugged him tightly.

"Brian, buddy, it's been too long! You don't come 'round anymore. Makes a fellow wanna shed a tear." He winked. "Thought we were past being strangers."

If it wasn't for Elizabeth rubbing their little "relationship" in his face, he might've come up with a politer answer. "Well ever since you moved across town and became 'Mr. Hollywood' didn't think a commoner like myself would be appreciated." He shrugged and tried to hide the bitterness from his voice. "Not like you've been too friendly yourself. You and Lizzie both know where I live."

He was utterly surprised when Blue Eyes just nodded his head in agreement. "You're not wrong. I gotta place here still. You can spend the night, we can catch up. Mind if we walk?" He kissed Liz on the cheek. "I'd invite you along too, but you got work tomorrow. The limo will take you back to the penthouse."

With one parting glare, Elizabeth left them. Brian felt giddy as they walked and talked throughout the streets. He wanted to hold his company's hand and skip all the way back to the house, but didn't for fear of some tough guy kicking their ass for it. He then pushed those thoughts out of his mind, reminding himself of how wrong they were. Instead, he forced himself to focus on how good it felt to be with his friend again. There was no sin in that.

They got into the apartment and started playing some drinking game of their own invention. If the other caught you in a lie, the liar had to drink. If you couldn't figure the lie out, you had to drink. Supposedly, this was to help them get reacquainted but both knew it was just an excuse to drink all Frank's imported liquor.

It started out innocent enough, little lies here and there each could see through. Things like 'I'm settled down' and 'I write my own songs.' Each fib making the other laugh, giddy. But as the night wore on and they grew more intoxicated, things got more intricate. It all started with Frank's own gem.

"I'd marry your sister if those state rules of yours permitted it." Brian frantically searched his face for some sign of a lie, anything. Seeing nothing, he just chose to play dumb. "Good one, Frankie. Better down that shot." Frank just shook his head and the green-eyed man downed what was left in the bottle.

Both remained silent for a long stretch of time. "Even if you could, I would never permit it." Brian whispered, his voice barely audible as he trembled. He almost felt enraged at the very thought of them eloping.

This caught Sinatra off guard. "What? You know I'd take care of her! I'm great with ladies! And I'm rich now, can afford her lifestyle." But his friend kept shaking his head, looking down at his hands. "What's the problem with that anyway?"

Brian rose, causing Frank to rise in turn. He didn't know what he was doing as he strode toward the other, but all he knew was that he couldn't stop lying to himself. Especially in light of this.

Brian couldn't look at the man as he spoke. "I wouldn't let you because I love you, Frank. And I know it can never happen but-" He dove in for it. He kissed Frank on the lips, praying to God that neither of them would go to Hell for this.

Once Frank got his bearings, he pushed Brian off of him. Brian, taken off guard, had fallen to the floor. "You're a fucking fag? Get out of here!" He yelled. "Making a move on me, I oughta kick your ass! Stay the fuck away from me!"

Brian scrambled to get his things and get up. He rushed to the door, but froze with his hand hovered over the doorknob. It didn't feel right to leave, not yet. He turned back around to look at Frank and felt a bottle go whizzing past his ear. The contents of it splashed all over his clothes. "I'll repay you for that night! I won't have your faggot ass killed for that stunt! Now stay the hell away from me, you queer!" That was all Brian needed. He left at once.

 _1989_

Brian hadn't seen Frank up close since that fateful night. It stung him everyday. He wished he could get a redo. But it wasn't long before new artists came into his life. The rise of Bruce Springsteen and Jon Bon Jovi provided him with two new friends. The loss of Frank became a memory pushed into the far recess of his mind, right next to his childhood.

That was until the day he received a knock on the door and a familiar set of blue eyes took him in. "Brian, buddy, what I'd give for your immortality right now." Without another word, Frank shuffled into the living room. Brian followed him, starstruck. This was no longer his friend, but the love of his life in someway returning to him. He sat besides him on the couch in a trance.

Frank winked at him. "Sorry if I'm not as attractive as I used to be. Eighty doesn't look too well on me."

Brian laughed. "Frank, I don't think you could be hideous if you tried." All the memories came back to him. The shame, the self-loathing, the disgust. Hr tightened his jaw, all friendliness and hope gone. "Here to remind me of what an abomination I am?" His eyes were like fire. "Trust me, I've reminded myself ever since I thought John Adams was weirdly sexy."

Frank smiled sadly. "No. That's...that's the opposite. My health ain't too good no more. Too much drinking, too much of the high life. My body can't take much more." He takes a letter out of his suit jacket. "I want you to read this when...when I've moved on. Take care, buddy. Send my regards to your sister." With that, he got up, kissed the other man's cheeks, and left. That was the last time Brian saw him.

A few months later, Frank died from a heart attack. Brian didn't leave the house for a week. Despite his better judgement, he sobbed and drank for the man he loved - loves - and who made him truly confront the feelings he'd believed were so unnatural for the first time.

Into the weekend was when he remembered the letter, lying unopened on his nightstand. He opened it and dozens of photos of them came falling out. Each one, their arms were wrapped around each other, grinning or laughing, having a good time. Tears were already forming as he began to read the letter:

 _'Brian,_

 _The biggest mistake of my life was never getting in touch with you after that night. I was a fool, too wrapped up in the threat your affection apparently presented to me. In all honesty, I took you for granted ever since you helped me land my first record deal. Only once you were gone did I realize that. I remember one night we were talking, and you said you never felt like any women had ever truly loved you just how you 'swung it.' Still funny to this day, but I should've known then. I should've known...I owe you too much with too little time so I can only offer you my words. I love you, Brian. You're the best friend I ever had and I'm sorry for the hell I put you through._

 _Thank you for everything,_

 _Frank.'_

Brian clutched the letter to his chest and let out an earth-shattering sob. "I love you too, Frank." He managed to declare to no one. "As long as I live, I know I will."


End file.
